


his eyes shone for the roses (his eyes shone for you)

by caboodles (orphan_account)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AU, Antiques shop au, Fluff, Happy, M/M, R&R Connection - Freeform, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:11:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1373446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/caboodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bell above the door jingled softly through the aisles as the wooden door swung open. Ryan looked up from the catalogue he was hunting through to see a small brunet enter. The man's eyes lit up as they swept the room, lingering on a shelf displaying Ryan's favorite plates- white, gold-trimmed, with roses adorning the sides- before he noticed Ryan. He approached the counter. </p><p>"Hello," he greeted. "Are you the owner of this shop?"</p><p>"Yes, I am," Ryan replied. "Are you looking to buy something? Anything in particular I may help you with?"</p><p>The man grinned. "Actually, I was just admiring those plates over there," he nodded towards the shelf. "They are lovely. Could I see them up close?" </p><p>---<br/>An AU where Ryan owns an antique store and Ray just so happens to walk in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	his eyes shone for the roses (his eyes shone for you)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lot longer than I expected and I'm still not 100% pleased.... Oh well. Enjoy!

Ryan Haywood had a talent- no, a gift- for identifying, collecting, and selling antiques. He could read the patina on bronze works and tell you when and where it was from; he could differentiate between woods by the grain and the sound they produced when his knuckle rapped upon them. He knew everything about glass-working techniques and dyeing methods and fabric weaving that there was to know. 

His shop was eclectically named "Bull in a China Shop," after his (though some might call it more than) slight obsession with animal antiques, especially cows. Those who knew him well enough knew that he named each and every of his personal, display-only animals Edgar, though no one was sure why. The store was a small building on a less-busy corner off the main street of the town. He still got plenty if business; his reputation alone pulled in buyers from all of Texas. Thus, he was well off enough to realize that, when he was offered a job in Austin as a curator in a museum of antiques, he was content to stay in his little shop, in his little town. 

-

The bell above the door jingled softly through the aisles as the wooden door swung open. Ryan looked up from the catalogue he was hunting through to see a small brunet enter. The man's eyes lit up as they swept the room, lingering on a shelf displaying Ryan's favorite plates- white, gold-trimmed, with roses adorning the sides- before he noticed Ryan. He approached the counter. 

"Hello," he greeted. "Are you the owner of this shop?"

"Yes, I am," Ryan replied. "Are you looking to buy something? Anything in particular I may help you with?"

The man grinned. "Actually, I was just admiring those plates over there," he nodded towards the shelf. "They are lovely. Could I see them up close?" 

"Of course," Ryan smiled back and walked to the glass china hutch. He took out his keyring, and, after searching for the correct key, he unlocked the door. "Made in Great Britain, around 1785," he rattled off. "The condition is good, very few scratches from cutlery- except on this one, see- and very little fading."

The man nodded with Ryan's comments, turning one of the saucers around in his fingers. He inspected the hand-painted pattern up close, and his eyes seemed to shine as he took in the details. "I love them," he said finally. "How much are they?" 

Ryan gave him a price lower than he might have marked them for, mainly because he could see the way the man looked at them- with the same light in his eyes as Ryan himself possessed. The man seemed surprised at the price ("Really? That seems a little too low for these!") but accepted anyway. As Ryan rang him up, the man pulled twenty dollars extra out of his wallet. Ryan tried to hand it back, but the man smiled and told him it was for him to keep, a tip of sorts ("For the excellent service."). Ryan did not argue a second time, not after the brunet pushed the bill into his fingers again. 

It was only after he left that Ryan realized he had not asked for his name. 

-

Another week or so went by before the man returned. Ryan had been in the back rooms looking for a bulb for one of the chandeliers when he heard the familiar voice call out. "Hello? Anyone here?"

He peeked out just to be sure. The brunet man stood at the counter, beaming when he came through the curtain. "Hello again," Ryan said cordially. "How may I be of service?"

The man held out his phone. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about this table?" Ryan looked. On the screen of the phone was a light chestnut colored table, large enough to comfortably seat ten or more people. His eyes wandered down the legs and he zoomed on the feet, taking in the carving job on the legs and feet. It looked to be well over a hundred, judging by the wear, and hand carved. The design looked German. Ryan relayed these thoughts to the man, who leaned over the counter to look with Ryan as he explained. When he was finished, the man nodded and thanked him, sheepishly admitting that was all he had come for. Ryan laughed, said he didn't mind, and that he was welcome any time. 

As the man turned to leave, Ryan suddenly remembered his thoughts after the previous visit. "I didn't catch your name," he blurted. 

The brunet turned again, surprised at the sudden question. "Ray," he answered, flushed ever so slightly. His voice was shy, quiet. 

"Ryan," Ryan said, but he realized it almost sounded like he'd misrepeated. "That's me, I mean," he amended awkwardly. 

"That's a nice name," Ray grinned. Then, he was gone. 

Ryan looked down at the counter again. Ray had left another twenty, he realized. The mere mention of the name in Ryan's mind caused Ryan to mull over the strange fluttering in his chest he'd gotten when Ray had smiled at him, had looked at him with the eyes that had shone when he'd looked at the rose plates. 

They had shone for Ryan, too. 

-

Ray visited the third time for a different reason. He did not arrive to purchase or to ask for an inspection. He simply showed up one Friday night as Ryan was locking up. 

"Hey, Ryan!" He called from across the street. Ryan jumped in surprise, dropping his keys on the sidewalk. Ray's laugh floated to him as Ryan bent down to pick them up. Then, Ray was standing in front of him with that same smile gracing his lips, same eyes locked on Ryan, shining in the dim lamplight (and all Ryan could think about was kissing those lips because God if Ray wasn't attractive with his stubble and glasses and dressier-than-usual shirt). 

Ray seemed to read some of Ryan's affection in his face because his grinned a little wider and glanced down timidly. 

"Ray," Ryan finally stammered. "I'm sorry, I just closed, but I can stay in a bit if you need something."

"Actually, I was hoping maybe... You'd like to get dinner with me tonight?" His eyes shifted around Ryan's face before settling on meeting his gaze again. 

Ryan blinked dumbly, staring at Ray for a moment until he actually comprehended the words. "Oh. Oh! Dinner, of course!" He exclaimed. Ray grinned and took his hand, keys and all, and tugged him down the street. 

They ended up eating at a little Italian restaurant that was Ryan's favorite. They conversed over pasta and homemade garlic bread. The owner brought out free cheesecake afterwards, which Ryan tried to pay for and was waved off. The dessert was " a special treat for you and your date!" Both men had blushed, but neither corrected the grinning owner. 

As they left, Ray took hold of Ryan's hand again, and, when he didn't pull away, squeezed gently. Ryan felt the warmth from Ray's hands soaking into his own cold, hopefully-not-clammy fingers. He felt his ears redden. 

"So, Ryan, do you live around here?" Ray asked. 

"Yeah, I have an apartment a few blocks from the shop. It's nice, I don't have to drive to work. What about you? I don't recall ever seeing you before this month."

"I actually live in Austin," Ray admitted. Ryan blinked. A full two and a half hours away. "I hadn't come here before my friend Michael- he works at the antique museum- was driving over here. You might remember him, he was here a few times. Apparently you're pretty well known to him and his workers." Ray paused. "So yeah. He asked if I wanted to come along and I happened to find your shop, I guess." The fingers laced between Ryan's. "Then I met you, and I just wanted to come back. So I caught a ride with him again last week. But I rode the bus this time."

"You rode the bus over here?" Ryan parroted. Ray nodded. 

"Speaking of which, I probably need to head back to the bus station. The next one leaves pretty soon. I should get home by 11."

"No, you shouldn't ride the bus so late," Ryan argued. "It's not safe. Why don't you stay the night?" 

Ray laughed. "Slow down, Ryan, we've only just had our first date, now you're inviting me over?" 

Ryan playfully knocked their shoulders together, but he readjusted their course to end up at his apartment. 

-

When Ryan unlocked the front door and held it open for Ray, the shorter man laughed and tugged him behind him. When they were both inside, Ray turned and let go of Ryan's shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles he had just created. His fingers lingered on Ryan's chest, and his eyes lingered on Ryan's lips. After a moment he seemed to realize what he was doing and looked down at the floor, blushing. Ryan chuckled and lifted Ray's chin with his hand. 

Neither of them made the first move; they just met in the middle. Ray's lips were soft on Ryan's (and Ryan worried he was too chapped, how in the world were Ray's so soft with how cold it had been?), moving slightly as Ray shifted to his tiptoes. Ryan sighed contentedly into the kiss. 

-

Ray had at first declined the offer of taking Ryan's bed, insisting that Ryan shouldn't have to sleep on the couch. Ryan was determined to win an argument (for once, since he'd met Ray) and refused to move from the couch. He'd fallen asleep not long after hearing Ray sigh and head to the bedroom. 

He woke up later to find the man curled in his arms, steadily breathing and nuzzling into Ryan's chest. 

(He didn't complain.)

-

Ray left the next morning, Ryan having driven him to the bus stop and having given him a sweet goodbye kiss. Ray smiled widely and waved as he'd boarded the bus. Ryan felt a pang of disappointment that Ray hadn't let him drive him back, but, as Ray had pointed out, he did have work to do. 

He turned out of the parking lot and drove to his shop. His lips still tingled with the recent memory of Ray's kiss. Ryan wondered when Ray would be back. 

("Will you be back soon?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, Austin is pretty far away."

"Ryan, I don't mind the ride. I want to see you again. Soon, okay?"

"Okay.")

He missed Ray already. He missed the way he would hold Ryan, the way he leaned towards him when they talked, the way his voice pitched as he talked. Ryan couldn't help but think that soon couldn't come enough. 

-

The next few days passed uneventfully. Ray hadn't called Ryan's phone yet, and he hadn't showed up on his doorstep or at his shop. Ryan was beginning to wonder if something had happened to Ray. 

He sat down Wednesday night to eat dinner when the phone rang. He picked up and answered, "Hello?"

"Is this Ryan?" A voice that Ryan couldn't quite place. It wasn't high or low, and it was somewhat raspy, but not from any illness. 

"Yes, this is."

"Hello, Ryan. This is Michael Jones- Ray's friend. I met you a few times to talk about some pieces, do you remember?"

Ryan nodded. The short, redheaded man with the boyish face and quick temper (he cringes at the memory of the poor man that interrupted Michael). After a moment he realizes Michael couldn't hear him nod and he said, "Yes, I remember. How can I help you?"

"Well, I was talking to Ray on Saturday and he was talking about coming back down to visit you some more," Ryan catches the understanding in Michael's voice and knows he knows what's actually going on, "and I was thinking... You remember the antiques museum I work for has a few job openings, right? Well, how would you like to work up here in Austin? If things don't work out, you don't have to stay. I just thought maybe it would be easier that you having to wait until both of you are free enough for one of you to make the trip."

Ryan is, for a moment, speechless. He takes a second to recover and manages, shakily, to say, "That would be amazing, actually, if you'll still have me there."

"Of course! I asked my boss, Geoff, and he's completely on board if you want a job. He's really impressed by your abilities." Ryan blushed. "In fact, he already has an interview set up for you tomorrow, if you're free."

"... Yeah. I'll be there."

-

A week later, Ryan locked the door of his new apartment and got in his car. He hadn't told Ray about his new job or the move yet, hoping to surprise the man. Michael hadn't said anything to Ray, either, pleased to surprise his friend. 

He'd gotten directions to Ray's apartment from Michael, and he figured out the way pretty quickly. They both lived on the north side of the town; not quite (but close enough to nearly be classified as) the suburbs. 

Ray's door was on the second floor, and Ryan's fingers shook- partially from being excited, partially from being anxious- as they knocked on the door. A sleepy mumble came from behind it. The sound of carpet-muted footsteps grew as Ray shuffled to the door. Then it was opened and Ryan smiled at the man in front of him. Ray's face lit up in surprise and, in recognition, happiness. Arms were around Ryan's neck in a flash and Ray was kissing him, hard. Ryan chuckled and kissed him back. 

When they finally (reluctantly) broke apart, Ryan broke the news of his new job- which earned another excited peck on the lips- and that he'd be living in Austin. As Ray cheered, and Ryan held him in his arms, Ryan couldn't help but feel like he was complete.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this on my phone, so if you see any mistakes please let me know. Thank you!


End file.
